Page 12 of Faking the Shot
Kaden leans back in his chair, arms crossed, his jaw working like he’s grinding down a bag of invisible rocks. “And how exactly is that my problem? She’s the one who made a fool of herself.”
“Yes,” Jacob agrees, his tone maddeningly patient, “but in the process, she made you look like the villain. And we alreadycovered that no one wants a villain.” He clicks to another clip, where Brittany’s dramatic exit is on full display.
“Add to that the fact that you’re not getting along with your new team and . . .” Jacob pauses for emphasis. “We have a lot to show this town, your fans, and the world of hockey.”
Kaden lets out a low, irritated growl. “She wasn’t even my girlfriend,” he mutters. “You said to keep her around for damage control or to look like a puppy. I can’t even remember the wording.”
“We’re aware,” Jacob says, not missing a beat. “But the world doesn’t know that. They think she was a steady girlfriend, and now you’re the bad guy—again. We need to do a complete makeover of your image.”
Kaden gives him an unimpressed glare. “What’s this? The Taming of the Shrew? Twelfth Night?”
I snort, unable to hold back the thought of Kaden playing Katherine instead of Petruchio.
“What’s so funny?” he snaps, glaring at me. “I assume you know what I’m talking about, don’t you? Or is that not a fact in your database?”
It’s such a weirdly formal way to phrase it that I almost laugh again, but instead, I say, “You’re Katherine. Well, in this case, Kaden. Get it? Kate, Kade. We just need to find your Petruchio. “
Crickets. Nobody laughs. I roll my eyes. “Obviously, you don’t get it.”
“I get the joke,” Jacob says then glances at the rest. “This isn’t the time, Val.”
I want to tell these people they need a sense of humor, but I don’t. I know Jacob doesn’t have it. Unless he’s around Noelle. Then he’s all smiles and sweetness.
“In any case, we pivot the focus to something positive,” Jacob continues, the picture of unbothered confidence. “The goodthing is that you do have a girlfriend, after all. Your Petruchio, if we must use the analogy.”
That gets Kaden’s attention. He sits up straighter, his steely eyes narrowing. “I have a what now?”
“A girlfriend,” Jacob repeats smoothly, like this is the most obvious solution in the world.
“I don’t have time for that shit,” Kaden snaps, shaking his head. “You want me to just pull some random woman out of thin air and pretend she’s the love of my life?”
Jacob’s smirk grows even more devilish, which I didn’t think was humanly possible. “That’s the beauty of it. You won’t have to find anyone. We’ll provide you with one.”
I almost choke on my tea, my throat deciding now is the perfect time to betray me. I stifle the sputter as best I can, but Jacob’s gaze snaps to me anyway, catching me mid-failure.
“Val’s the one who came up with some suggestions,” Jacob continues casually, like he hasn’t just taken my life and tossed it directly into oncoming traffic. “I think she could find us the perfect candidate—someone who’ll work with her to clean up your image up once and for all.”
I blink at him, utterly dumbfounded. “What the fuck?” I mutter under my breath.
Kaden’s gaze cuts to me, his irritation palpable. “She did, did she?”
Oh, perfect. Now I’m the scapegoat. This is going to go south faster than a snowbird in December, and I’m the one who’s going to get fired.
“Well,” I say, carefully setting down my mug like it’s the only thing keeping me tethered to reality, “I didn’t exactly volunteer for this. Anyone else could do it. Literally anyone.”
“But you are our best bet,” Jacob cuts in smoothly, not missing a beat. “You’ve got an eye for these things, Val. And Kaden can’t afford any more mishaps. You’re a great judge ofcharacter, you’ve proven yourself with other clients, and—best of all—you live in Boston. Makes it easy to keep things local.”
The room goes dead silent, everyone waiting for my reaction like this is a live-streamed episode ofWhat the Hell Will Val Do Next?Meanwhile, Kaden’s gaze drills into me, his frustration practically steaming off him.
“So what?” I blurt, trying to salvage some shred of dignity. “You want me to go to an open audition? Head to Broadway and hire an actress? Maybe plaster a ‘Help Wanted’ sign on the local coffee shop? Or should I just hold a casting call in Fenway Park?”
Jacob, unfazed, merely adjusts his tie. “It doesn’t have to be that complicated. You know the kind of person we’re looking for—professional, polished, believable. Someone the media will eat up. Think girl next door meets sports celebrity.”
Finally, I exhale, throwing my hands up in defeat. “Fine. Let me just open my magical Rolodex of women who are dying to date a guy whose personality can best be described asabrasive at best.”
“Abrasive at best?” Kaden echoes, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “You want her to pick some random stranger and parade her around like my fucking soulmate?”
“Not random,” Jacob interjects, his tone still maddeningly calm. “Strategic. And temporary.”
